JE deserves all the credit for the characters below. I am just having my wicked way with them.

Jenny (JenRar) I still don't have the words to adequately thank you for your work as the beta on this story.

Chapter 15 - Winning Bets and Celebrating

I knew today was going to be a trying day as soon as I stepped out of my office and saw Stephanie hunkered down in her cubicle. My first clue was that she was in a RangeMan uniform – head to toe black and her stun gun on her belt in a little holster I'd never seen her carry before. I would have liked to have seen a real gun on there, as well, but had to admit just the stun gun was a major step in the right direction.

She was scribbling notes in a folder I knew had come from Connie, and Hector was leaning on the edge of her cubicle. Most likely, she hadn't noticed her partner standing there, or she would have acknowledged him.

I smiled when Hector waited for her to stop writing, and then moved over to put his hand on her desk. She swung around, clearly not expecting to see anyone standing there, but she didn't really jump the way she used to when I'd stand behind her and say her name. I saw each of their mouths move, but couldn't hear them from the distance I was standing away. Both of their brows furrowed, and then they began to move their hands, signing to each other as though they'd always talked this way.

When they both laughed, I knew they were going to be all right, so I left my door open, but turned to walk back into my office. I didn't want her to catch me watching them. If she felt ready to hit the streets, I wasn't going to stand in her way, no matter how much I wanted to.

I only had to pretend to work for a couple of minutes before I saw them standing in my doorway, ready to leave.

"We're heading out. I've got a couple of skips I want to try and pick up, and then Hector wants me to ride with him to check on a security system that has been sending out false alarms," she informed me.

I was already aware of the schedule, but I was glad she was trying to keep me in the loop regarding her activity.

"Don't go crazy," I warned her with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah," she laughed. "And I won't get shot."

The last couple of words slurred together slightly. I was noticing that more and more in her speech and had asked Bobby about it. He'd told me it was completely normal. Without being able to hear her own voice, it was hard to keep it as clear as it had been. He suggested that a little time with a speech therapist would help her with that, but I hadn't brought it up yet. I felt like she'd been making so many accommodations lately that telling her she needed to work on something else felt cruel. Bobby agreed it could wait, at least until we got word from her doctor regarding the permanence of her hearing loss. I think we both had a feeling that her current state was the way it would be indefinitely, but neither one of us wanted to say it aloud.

They left, and I sat in my chair, staring at the door where they'd been standing and wondering how in the hell I was going to make it through the day without checking on her.

Before I could begin planning an undercover op to shadow them under the guise of supervising two of my staff members, Lester appeared in the doorway. "Hey, cuz. Got a minute?"

I nodded and moved some papers on my desk, trying to make it look like I'd been working on something covert, so he wouldn't suspect I'd been basically day dreaming at my desk. "What's up?"

"Two things," he began, holding up a single finger. "First, none of the guys like the idea of Stephanie out on the streets picking up skips. Too damn many things can go wrong for her a good day, and without her hearing, that number just grows exponentially. But when you factor in her working with Hector, they seem to chill a bit. I think everybody feels that if Hector takes a shine to Stephanie and agrees to watch over her, then she couldn't possibly be in better hands, so in many ways, she might be safer than she was out there on her own before her accident. I think as long as Hector agrees to stick with her, there won't be any trouble from the guys."

"Good to know," I replied. I wasn't going to pull the plug on it regardless of what they thought, but it was nice to know that I didn't need to watch my back in the office in case somebody decided I needed to be taught a lesson about not taking care of Stephanie.

Lester held up two fingers, reminding me there was another reason for his appearance in my office. "A group of us are going to hit Intensity tonight, and I wondered if we could invite Stephanie."

"Why are you asking me?" I wondered, knowing he'd never bothered to ask before.

"Well, it is a dance club, and even though I'm sure I've got moves smooth enough to compensate for the lack of music to guide her, I still wasn't sure if the invitation might upset her more than it would make her happy," he explained.

I thought about it for a minute and couldn't begin to guess how she'd react. Finally, I gave up predicting her thought process and told him, "You'll have to ask her to know for sure, but if she wants to go, I'll be glad to come along, too." I hadn't tried dancing with Stephanie, because it seemed like a strange thing to do with someone who couldn't hear, but past history had told me that she was an excellent dancer and she never struggled to follow my lead. I had a feeling with the right song, we could easily move together.

I found myself hoping she would say yes and finally decided to stack the deck in my favor. "On second thought, how about you let me ask her, and if she's willing to go, we'll meet you guys there around 2200?"

"Will do," he agreed with a smile. For all the shit I'd given him growing up and since he came to work for me, my cousin was a solid guy, and I was damn lucky to have him on my team.

He left me to my thoughts while I tried to figure out exactly how to broach the subject of us going to a club. I found the strength to make myself do some work, prepping a few sales proposals to send out to prospective clients and making some client calls, too. Before I knew it, several hours had passed and some noise in the control room alerted me that something had the guys' interest.

I set down the proposal I was rereading and listened to Woody tell the men that Stephanie was back with Hector. Then he said, "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never believe it."

"What?" Lester asked, unable to have something happen around him that he wasn't a part of.

"They got out of his Navigator and had some kind of sign language conversation, and then Hector shook his head and started walking away. He stopped a few feet away from her, and she ran toward him, jumping on his back. The elevator will be here in a minute, where I would assume Steph is still getting a piggy back ride from Hector. I never thought I'd see the day that he'd let a woman hang on him like that, and smile all the while," Woody explained.

I stood up and stepped to the doorway of my office, where I could see the elevator above the half cubicles lining the main room. Sure enough, when the door opened, Hector came out, carrying Stephanie on his back. He bypassed the guys, who were all asking him why he was carrying her, and walked straight to my office, instead.

I raised an eyebrow, unsure as to who I should ask about the grin on both their faces.

Stephanie couldn't help herself and began talking. "Hector is giving me a ride, because he lost a bet while we were picking up skips."

I looked at Hector and asked, "What bet?"

Steph couldn't understand my question, but kept talking, probably thinking the answer I was looking for would be in her story somewhere. "We were picking up Marshall Thompson at his mother's house on the edge of the 'Burg. He was wanted for assault with a deadly weapon, so Hector wanted me to stand aside and let him bring Marshall in, because he thought there was too much of a chance that I'd get hurt. I bet him that I could get Marshall to cuff himself and walk to the SUV without having to do any roughing up, and Hector didn't believe me. Finally, we bet that if I could do it within ten seconds, Hector would carry me up here on his back, and if I couldn't do it, I would step aside and never question him again."

"How did you get a skip to put the cuffs on himself and walk out to the truck, Babe?" I asked, completely sucked into the joy on her face and hanging on every word.

"Marshall was a year ahead of me in school and had the biggest crush on Valerie. I spent a lot of time as a kid sharing a box of doughnuts on the front porch when my sister refused to come out and see him. I was usually the one that had to tell him she was blowing him off, so I knew he had a thing for jelly-filled doughnuts. According to the police report, he was arrested for breaking the glass door at the Dunkin Doughnuts when they refused to serve him at 8:45," she explained, as though the answers I needed were somehow in those obscure details.

I stayed quiet while Hector set her down on the floor and stood there watching her while she picked up her story once more. "Dunkin Doughnuts doesn't close until 9:00, so I could understand why he was upset and took the tire iron to the door. The manager of the store said he refused to allow Marshall back into his shop because of the incident and I knew he preferred their doughnuts to the ones at the Tasty Pasty which meant he had no way to feed his sugar addiction. So I stopped by the bakery and got a jelly-filled, and then carried it up to the door. When he answered, I gave him the cuffs and told him he could eat the doughnut on the way to the cop shop, but he had to come with us now.

"Marshall gladly slapped the metal on his wrists, and I led him to the truck with the doughnut in my hands. As soon as he got in and buckled his seat belt, I handed him the doughnut and shut the door. We had to sit in the parking lot while he finished it, but when it was all gone, we led him in and Robin processed him quickly so Hector could pay up." As she said the last few words, she signed them, too, so Hector knew he was being spoken of.

He signed something to her that made her laugh out loud, and when she sighed in return, he found her just as funny. Then the man who I considered the coldest, hardest person on staff hugged my woman and kissed her cheek, before calling "adios" over his shoulder for me and leaving us alone.

Stephanie was still smiling when it was just the two of us, and since I was a sucker for all things Plum, I moved closer to her to state the obvious. "You had a good day today."

"I did," she replied happily. "I was a little nervous, but having Hector with me made me feel much better about not being able to hear. We talked for a while about how to handle different situations, and then we just jumped in and did it. I even went on a client call, which turned out to be easy. He spent a little time explaining what he was doing, and I helped to test some wires. I translated everything he signed to me to the lady that answered the door, and when we were finished, he said we made a good team."

"It sounds like you do," I agreed with her, amazed at how Hector had worked with her. He was notorious for only wanting to work alone and had all but declared he would resign before he'd work with more than an occasional partner.

Despite my arms being around her, she was all but bouncing on her toes, struggling to stay still. "You've got a little extra energy there, Babe," I pointed out the obvious, so glad today had worked out like this for her.

"I do," she agreed with my comment about her energy. "Any ideas on how I can burn a little off?"

Damn, this woman got to me in ways I couldn't understand. "I can think of quite a few," I admitted, watching her eyes darken at the implication that we could move this conversation upstairs and celebrate her first day back at work.

Instead, I surprised her by saying, "The guys are going to Intensity tonight and wondered if we would come, too."

"You want to take me to a dance club?" she asked, as though what she thought I'd said and what I'd intended couldn't be the same thing.

"That's right," I said, keeping my reply simple.

Her forehead wrinkled, and she finally looked up to ask, "Why?"

I tightened my hold around her waist, keeping her close to me, and answered, "Because I like dancing with you."

"But I can't dance anymore," she stated, her voice losing the excitement it had held earlier.

"I disagree," I threw out there, knowing how difficult it was for her to face down a challenge.

Her eyes narrowed, before she replied, "You can disagree all you want to, but if I can't hear the music, then I can't dance to it."

"There was no music playing in the apartment last night," I jumped in to argue. "But you had no trouble finding my rhythm and keeping up with me."

Her face began to blush as she recalled what we were doing to establish the rhythm I was referring to. "Sex and dancing are two different things."

"True," I conceded, "but you have always been able to follow my lead, and for all we know, between the crowd on the floor, the vibrations of the music, and how closely we'll be pressed against each other, you might enjoy it."

She pulled the corner of her mouth between her teeth while she considered what I was saying. "If we tried it and I couldn't keep up, would you let me leave and not force me to stay and keep trying?"

I waited until I was positive I had her full attention to respond. "When have I ever forced you to do something you didn't want to do?"

Her head tilted down a little as a subconscious sign of submission. "You haven't," she admitted.

I lifted her chin with my finger and finished the thought. "And I never will. If you aren't comfortable, then we'll leave."

She thought for another minute, and finally agreed. "Okay, let's give it a shot."

I was so impressed by the strength she had to step out of her comfort zone and try something, knowing there was an equal chance it might not work, but being willing to try it anyway because it was something she wanted to do.

"Proud of you, Babe," I told her, knowing it didn't do justice to how I felt, but feeling the need to at least acknowledge that much.

She stretched up to kiss my cheek, and then spun out of my grasp, telling me she was going to fill out the paperwork on the skips, since they were technically being processed through RangeMan now and the slave driver boss here required a complete file on every pick up.

I let her go, and then picked up my cell phone to talk to Hector.

As soon as he answered, I switched to Spanish and asked, "How did it really go today?"

"Good."

His one word answer wasn't helpful.

"Any concerns about her continuing to round up skips?" I pushed to get more information.

"Yes, but I don't think it's a good idea to just tell her she can't do it," he advised, knowing Stephanie well enough to admit that would only cause her to dig in her heels, insisting she be allowed to do it.

"Do you have any suggestions for how to make her safer?" I asked, hoping he could offer something more than he was.

He paused, and then said, "We could use her to review all the skip files so that if they are from her side of town, she can suggest how we go after them. She's also really good with clients. I want to take her out with me more often. She can learn to install and repair the systems, and the clients would probably appreciate seeing her more than me on their doorstep."

"Do you think she'll go for it?" I asked, wishing I had a crystal ball that had the answer to that question.

He made a non-committal sound, before saying, "I'll bring her out a little every day. If she sees she can do it, she might choose it over going after the bad guys in time."

"Thanks for your help," I told him. Despite his lack of an answer regarding the future, I still appreciated him going with Stephanie and watching over her so that she could figure out what she wanted to do.

"I do it for her," he reminded me before hanging up.

I was able to work for the rest of day without worry, since Stephanie was in the building, and only when I got hungry did I realize it was time to call it a day. When I got upstairs, Stephanie was literally throwing clothes out of the closet onto the bed, making grumbling sounds.

I touched her elbow with my hand, and she spun around with her hand over her heart. "Carlos, you scared me," she told me, sounding slightly breathless.

I was torn between feeling badly for sneaking up on her and feeling that certain rush every time she used my given name. When I'd first asked her to begin calling me Carlos, she'd used it intermittently, often using Ranger, instead. But the last day or two, she'd seemed to be remembering it every time. I couldn't deny that I loved the thought of her knowing the real me well enough that she was finally comfortable using my birth name instead of the one I used on the streets.

I rubbed my closed fist over my heart as the sign for an apology, and she waved me off, not holding a grudge. "What's the problem?" I asked, before glancing back over to the mountain of clothes on the bed.

"I don't know what to wear," she admitted, her frustration coming through loud and clear.

I glanced at what I assumed was her reject pile and saw quite a few dresses I'd love to see on her, not sure what was wrong with any of them. I ran my hand over the top of the pile and pulled out a dress that was a dark shade of blue. It had thin straps at the top, and based on how short it seemed, I had a feeling it would allow her legs plenty of room to move.

"How about this one?" I offered.

She shrugged and took the dress from my hand to hold it up against her body. I thought the color made her eyes stand out, and I could see how it would frame her body and knew it would be look damn good on her.

She took a deep breath and finally said, "All right, I'll give it try."

I was about to ask why she was struggling so much with what to wear, since she had so many good options, but she turned around and went into the bathroom to begin the process of getting ready.

I called Ella about dinner, and then sat down to read the newspaper while I waited. I didn't see the point in showering before going to the club, since I hadn't really done anything but sit at my desk, and I knew if Stephanie was able to dance with me, I'd need a shower after we got home anyway.

I was halfway through the world news section, reading between the lines of what the associated press reported to see what they weren't disclosing, didn't know, or weren't allowed to print so that I could stay on top of the real picture of world affairs. Ella let herself in, pushing her cart with a few covered dishes on it for our dinner. She stopped and spoke to me briefly, before moving on to her work.

I couldn't help but smile when she glanced in the bedroom and saw the pile of clothes. After shaking her head with a grin on her face, she dutifully went in and re-hung everything Stephanie had flung out so carelessly. As she passed back through the living room, she called out, "Have a good time out tonight."

"How did you know we were going somewhere?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"Only a woman nervous about how she looks would go through that many wardrobe choices. And Stephanie wouldn't be nervous if you two were just sitting at home tonight," she pointed out easily.

I thanked her for cleaning it up and complimented the smell of the food she'd brought in, considering myself damn lucky to have an aunt willing to work here and capable of handling so much so well. Ella smiled once more, before pushing her cart back out of the apartment and leaving me to my paper once more.

Stephanie managed to come out in my robe long enough to eat, before barricading herself once more in the bathroom to finish getting ready. I wanted to object that some brides spent less time on their appearance, but I knew she was focusing so much on her looks out of nervousness that tonight might not go well and feeling the need to be able to control at least some element of the evening.

I changed my clothes to a pair of black jeans, a little more fitted than Stephanie had seen me wear before, and tucked in a white tank top wife beater, before pulling a scarlet shirt on top, which I left unbuttoned. Around my neck, I put on a braided leather necklace and threw in a diamond stud for good measure. If Stephanie was going to spend this kind of time on her presentation, then I needed to put in a little effort to catch her eye, as well.

I was just tying my hair back with a black strip of leather, when the bathroom door opened to reveal the sexiest woman alive. She'd curled her hair, taking away the slightly crazy look it usually had and replaced it with loose flowing curls that framed her face and made me want to run my fingers through it without worrying about pulling tangles like I usually did. Her make-up was understated by her standards, but I had no doubt she'd crafted it intentionally that way. The dress wasn't skin tight, but when she moved, it sparkled and shined, warning me that she was going to be drawing all kinds of attention to herself tonight and I needed to be prepared. I glanced at my gun safe and wondered if the two I had strapped on would be enough.

She had on a pair of heels that brought out the muscles in her calves. They weren't so high that I worried for her safety, which told me she was going dressed to dance all night if it were possible.

I met her eyes, and we stood there taking each other in, before she broke the silence to say, "I think together we're going to make quite an impression tonight."

I liked the way her eyes were taking in my appearance, so I stood there, giving her time to check me out and taking advantage of her distraction to do the same thing to her.

I stalked over to her and kissed her lips, keeping it soft, but trying to let her know we would be back here later tonight when my kisses wouldn't be as reserved. When I pulled back, she pressed her lips against each other, before her tongue slipped to moisten them. I nearly lost my control, wanting to get rid of the clothes we'd both just gone through the trouble of putting on, just from the view of the tip of her tongue. But I knew tonight was important – on several levels – so I fisted my hands until my knuckles cracked to get a grip on myself, and then held out my elbow to her as an invitation to walk with me to the garage.

She slipped her hand over my arm and smiled up at me. "We'll try it, but you promise we'll leave if it doesn't work?"

I knew she was nervous, so I didn't hold her need for reassurance against her. "I promise," I said solemnly. My words didn't seem to relax her any, so I added, "And if we can't dance at the club, we'll come back here, where we know there aren't any problems finding our rhythm and moving together."

She blushed at little, but she didn't back away from what I was implying. We took a few steps, before she spoke up, surprising me. "I think we'll end up doing that even if I can dance. Just be sure no matter how long the night gets that you save enough energy for a little dancing up here later."

I laughed out loud at her joke that there was a snowball's chance in hell that my energy would run out before hers would. Still, I appreciated the fact that she was making light of her worries for the evening.

I knew for most couples, something as simple as going out to a club was a no brainer. They got dressed up, they went out, they came back home. I found myself praying that this would work so that Stephanie could reclaim that piece of her life from before the accident. But even if it didn't, I knew we would be facing it together, and I now felt very confident that there wasn't a challenge out there that we couldn't overcome.